When writer turned director Rumi Jaffery was asked if God Tussi Great Ho is a copy of Bruce Almighty, he denied it.

I wonder what the lie-detecting chair would indicate if he was posed with the same query in his talk-show within the movie, Jhooth Bole Kauva Kaate?

And even then, Bruce Almighty and God Tussi Great Ho have simply nothing in common. No sir, none of the original's crispy one-liners, zany humour, Jim Carey brand of facials or spontaneous endearment with a 'with great power comes greater responsibility' message to be found here.

Instead the rehash is as loud as its interior decoration, as uncool as Salman Khan's [Images] wardrobe, as ugly as Priyanka Chopra's [Images] nose-ring, and as brain-dead as Sohail Khan's [Images] performance.

How does it work really? One fine DVD later, a well-established writer decides to turn director. He gets this brainwave of using this million-dollar raking formula of a can't-go-wrong script (what happens when a down and out guy gets to be God for ten days), incorporates his own twisted sensibilities that lack both detail and imagination and then signs on a bunch of saleable stars. It's not the first time. It's definitely not the last time.

What I don't understand is the shocking level of complacency when it comes to creativity, which in case Bollywood forgot, film-making is all about.

I fail to understand why Amitabh Bachchan [Images] has to wear a replica of Morgan Freeman's [Images] wardrobe. I don't understand why the posters need the same bunch of fluffy white clouds against a blue sky. Can't think new, right? Can't think basic, either? And to think, Sohail's character, during some point in the movie, reprimands Salman with a 'Be original, yaar!'

You have a problem with media referring to the Hindi Film Industry as Bollywood. Give us more than five films a year as reason to change that.

Who wants to see a bunch of dolts (played by Rajpal Yadav, Rajesh Vivek, Upasna Singh) monkeying around Salman throughout the film under the pretext of funny? While Rumi Jaffery's characteristic no-brainers have worked favourably under David Dhawan's comic precision, swift editing and innate ability to extract the entertainer out of his comic heroes, the debutant director, on his own, goes overboard with those metaphor-infested writing skills, neglecting every other department -- visuals, art, music, thrills, continuity, editing and acting resulting in a really flat comedy in worn-out templates of Mujhse Shaadi Karogi and Maine Pyaar Kyun Kiya.

If Amitabh Bachchan plays the suited-booted almighty with the air of Reid & Taylor model, don't blame him. This God has no say. He has no sense of humour, utters the most uncharismatic lines and is too much of an exhibitionist (like showing off his tacky SFX skills all the time) for his own good.

In what can only be dubbed as one of Salman's lousiest performances in a long time, the actor appears to be in a constant state of headache or hysteria. And those floral shirts and bling-y sherwanis don't help either. His leading lady Priyanka is too talented and pretty to be wasted in such inconsequential roles and tacky outfits.

The one and only fun thing about God Tussi Great Ho is Anupam Kher [Images]. As Salman's crabby papa, he seems to effortlessly and perfectly echo the grumpy and grumbling voice in all of us, enduring this mess. God help Rumy.